


(You Gotta) Think it Through

by OverMyFreckledBody



Series: Stuck with Me (Sometimes Quite Literally) [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (like everything in this bc its SHORT), Alternate Universe - X-Files Fusion, Drabble, Jealousy, M/M, Mulder Marco, Rescue Missions, Scully Jean, episode fourteen (lazarus) this time buds, haaa its brief, mentions of cadavers and guns and witness of death, really guilty feelings later, seemingly unrequited love and stuff, the end of it i guess, uhh? the scene where the door gets kicked in? kinda? yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 22:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6772309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After that gunshot and the slam of the door, his first thought is that he's glad it isn't Kirschetin.</p><p>But when he leans down next to him and whispers his partner's name, it's not his own that hears back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(You Gotta) Think it Through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Achrya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/gifts).



> finally added this all to a series
> 
> I didn't want to think about ageless men with salamander hands, so you guys got this instead. 
> 
> [Watch the episode here](http://putlocker.is/watch-the-x-files-tvshow-season-1-episode-14-online-free-putlocker.html), and the scene kinda starts about close to or around 42:30 or whatever I don't know, it's difficult to give a certain time with this pov.
> 
> Please listen to [this music](http://endlessvideo.com/watch?v=pTvbXMRMnHo). I think I accidentally wrote to the beat of this.

                He’s sitting right in front of the door and he can probably feel the hot air of one of the other officers on the back of his neck if he focuses hard enough, but it’s not easy to focus on _anything_ aside from the drowning _thud thud thud thud_ in his chest. He’s staring at the ugly, chipping white as he waits, waits for anything he could use as a sign or a reason to break it down and well, fuck shit up, essentially.

 

                There’s a muffled shout that gets passed his rushing blood, something he has to bite his tongue not to twitch at because he _knows_ that voice, but he doesn’t move. There’s always going to be more shouting with this because of the people inside (including his partner, even), but it isn’t a _sign_ and he can’t do anything yet, no matter how much he wants to. There’s no way he’s going to put anyone but himself in harm’s way, and jumping the gun (quite literally) is going to do just that.

 

                Then there’s the gunshot.

 

                Another yell. Same voice.

 

                It’s his foot that kicks down the door, and the only thing running through his head as he works on autopilot is, _Don’t be Kirschtein, don’t be Kirschtein._ It’s repeating itself on a loop, but he can’t make it stop, and it’s running faster than his heart at the moment.

 

                He hears himself yell the standard FBI “greeting”, and he’s got one glance around the corner to see two unmoving bodies slumped against the wall before his thought process changes. _It’s not Kirschtein_.

 

                He spins around, looking for his partner, finding him staring at the bodies at the wall, directly across the small room from them, handcuffed to a radiator. There’s dried blood stuck to his cheek, having spilled from the corner of his mouth, and Marco’s heart jerks forward, against his ribs, like his feet do on the floor. He barely gets close enough to Kirschtein when he falls to his knees, relief pouring over him, corpses behind him forgotten.

 

                _It’s not Kirschtein. It wasn’t Kirschtein_.

 

                “Kirschtein,” he murmurs, taking a hand off of his gun, and reaching forward. His hand with the gun falls to the floor, but he doesn’t pay it mind, he’s safe, _Kirschtein’s_ _safe_. “Tell me you’re okay. _Kirschtein_.”

 

                Kirschtein’s not even looking at him; it doesn’t even seem that he’s even registered Marco. The name he gasps, his eyes wide, as his hands, still cuffed, rattle against the metal, belongs to the body he’s still staring at.

 

                Marco’s arm recoils and he glances over at the other people he’s ignored as one of the officers shakes their head at Kirschtein’s unasked question. When he’s looking back at him, he watches as Kirschtein melts back against the wall, like he’s trying to submerge himself into it, and swallows. It’s only when he slides his gun back into his holster and shifts his position into more of a squat and he whispers with a jerk of his head, trying to keep his voice form sounding hollow that Kirschtein finally looks at him. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

 

                But if anything, the scared look in his eye and the open, downturn of his lips he sees rival how empty Marco’s feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> *throws hands into the air* whatcha gonna do?
> 
> [HERE](http://overmyfreckledbody.tumblr.com/) is my snk/writing blog. [THIS ONE](http://acharyadiako.tumblr.com/) is Acharya's.
> 
> [THIS IS A LINK](http://overmyfreckledbody.tumblr.com/post/143983522933/guess-who-wrote-more-x-files-jeanmarco-au-me) to the rebloggable version of the fic. 
> 
> If you liked it, it'd be cool for some kudos and/or a comment! And if you want to read more, check out the series (and sub? I guess?)!


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